Floodwaters
by nuttyjigs
Summary: When a tsunami hits Japan just before a certain group of friends' yearly meeting...AU; dedicated to the victims of the Japan tragedy. Rated K   just to be safe. My first fic on FF. Becoming a short series due to...popular demand.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** New user here, and this is my first fic on . Don't go easy on me when you review. Sorry about the rushedness in the middle part; I didn't want people dying from sheer length and long character introductions. -_-U Also, I've only watched Hetalia up to the thirty-something episodes and the movie, so some facts could be inaccurate. Also didn't get too much time to research, so...yeah. Dedicated to the tragedy in Japan just a few days ago. D: Let's pray for those who died and those who are missing. And the still-messed up areas, and the nuclear danger, and...

Oh dear. :l

AU Hetalia that's...serious? Rated K+ to be safe. I don't own Hetalia.

* * *

It was early afternoon when it hit.

The first thing that was notable was the sound. A steady, distant rumbling. At that early stage, it could have been anything. Kiku signed it off as some large truck or something and continued to pack his things. After all, the ship was to arrive early the next day, and if he didn't want to be late, he needed to pack while there was still time.

When the rumbling didn't stop, though, Kiku grew suspicious. The raven-haired young man curiously trotted downstairs, his faithful cream puppy trailing after him.

"What's that sound, Pochi?" the Japanese cooed, patting his pet with one hand and brushing aside the curtains with the other. "It's been going on for some time now. I wonder…"

Kiku trailed off. Pochi started barking.

Right outside the window, looming above the crowds of running people, was a huge wave, cluttered with debris that it had picked up on its journey from the shore. In short: a tsunami.

It came as a shock, but Kiku didn't need any prompting. He wasn't a very materialistic person; he took only Pochi in his arms and abandoned everything else when he ran out of the rented beach house.

The rest came pretty quickly. Pochi continued to bark as Kiku joined the stampede of frantic people. Some of the runners stumbled, and that was the end of them, the uncannily large wave devouring them alive. He began to grow tired, but he didn't dare give up. If he died, at least he would be proud to say that he died trying.

It wasn't long before someone shouted over the rumbling waters, "The observatory!" Of course! The resort contained an observatory that was seated atop a tall cliff in order to catch the mesmerizing view of the infinite ocean. Well, the view wouldn't be as magnificent as it once was, but it was a place high enough to both escape the towering wave and hold all the escapees.

Kiku and the rest ran towards the roofed stairs that spiraled upwards to a cliff that looked exhaustingly high. Some stopped to complain about the height, but those who had enough sense began the climb, and among those was Kiku.

Halfway up, he was already drenched in sweat, and the tsunami had devoured those right behind him, a swirling black vortex of rapidly ascending water. Pochi whimpered, looking back over his master's shoulder at the churning mass. Kiku, noting this, tried to climb faster, but to no avail. All his adrenaline had already been used up, and tiredness was already dragging on his legs.

And then, the worst thing possible happened: He tripped.

He was nearly there, yet he tripped over the last dozen steps. Pochi flew out of his arms with a cry of protest. The sheer force of the water threw Kiku against one of the steps, driving all the air from his lungs in the form of numerous little bubbles.

At that point, there was nothing he could do anymore.

Pieces of debris floated about in the swirling tsunami, a fragment or two cutting against his delicate skin and drawing velvet blood that swirled wispily in the water. It knocked him against things he couldn't even see in the murky liquid, and it began to numbly _hurt_. Strands of black hair floated about as everything grew muffled and slowed down. He was losing oxygen…he wouldn't…for…

Throughout the whole ordeal, Pochi never ceased barking.

/

"Aiyah!" The ponytailed Chinese man halted at the assembled group of odd friends lazing around in the exquisite hotel lobby. "Sorry I'm late," he panted, hands on knees from exhaustion.

"It's about time, Yao," smiled a blond with thick eyebrows, a cup of tea in hand. "You're usually one of the first ones here."

It was just another meeting in just another year, or so the peculiar group of friends thought. They had met each other at an international event some years ago, and, getting along well from there (and some, not so much), grew to be close friends. Every year, whenever everyone was available, they would gather in one of their hometowns to hang out a little. In the meantime, they usually contacted each other through either the Internet or long-distance calls. That day was their meeting day, a Friday in March.

"Talk about it, man!" The American in a bomber jacket named Alfred broke out a huge burger-filled grin, tearing his eyes from the football game showing on the lobby television for a moment to greet the newly-arrived Yao. "What happened, dude?"

"Um, well…" Yao smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's kind of a long story…"

/

Earlier that week, in the ridiculously early morning hours, Wang Yao received a call telling him that his cruise to Europe had been postponed to a date too late for his meeting in London.

His initial reaction, of course, was shock. How could he get to London in time, then? In the first place, why had the cruise been postponed? Yao never found out, but he had no choice but to book a flight ASAP.

After a whole lot of searching online, Yao finally found an open seat on a plane to London early morning _on the day itself_. Quite inconvenient, but there were no other seats open, and Yao didn't have much of a choice.

And of course, upon his arrival in London, he still had to pass all the excessive airport security checks, run around looking for a bus, and taking a great deal of time in finding the venue which was specified on the address given to him…

"…And that's how it went," finished Yao with a gasp, now seated among the rest.

"Aww…That sounded real messed up," sympathized Feliciano, the somewhat immature Italian with a unique flyaway curl.

"Agreed," nodded the earlier blond, an Englishman by the name of Arthur, who had chosen their current venue due to the small distance between it and his own city home.

"Speaking of which," added the buff German Ludwig, his arms crossed in an authoritative pose, "where are Ivan and Kiku?"

"Ivan called this morning," offered Francis, the flamboyant French in the group. "He said he wasn't going to make it."

"What?" exclaimed Alfred. "Dude, we only meet up once a year and he couldn't make it? Why?"

Francis shrugged. "He didn't say."

"What about Kiku?" asked Yao. "Any word from him?" He knew there was a slim chance the Japanese would call _him_. They used to be pretty close, with Yao even acting as Kiku's older brother at times (although Kiku would flatly deny it), but they got into a little…fight, and they haven't really been on great terms ever since. They were still friends, of course, more so on Yao's side than Kiku's, but just not as close.

"Well, that's quite an oddity," said Arthur. "Kiku's another one for punctuality."

"Maybe he's sick," suggested Feliciano.

"Knowing Kiku, maybe his dog's sick," joked Francis. "Pochi, was it?"

"Yeah, he sure was attached to the thing," chuckled Ludwig as he remembered the two eating their sushi together during their previous meeting in Japan. "I doubt he'd ever let it even step into a park or something by itself."

"It was a cute doggy," dreamed Feliciano.

"Well, Kiku seems like a pretty practical and down-to-earth dude, know what I mean?" said Alfred. "I didn't think he could get so psyched over a little doggy like that."

Yao laughed. "Kiku's actually pretty soft, shi ma? Well, I think someone better call him and ask why—"

His statement was cut off by a sudden interruption on the lobby TV: "News Flash!"

"My game!" exclaimed Alfred, keeling over like it was the end of the world. "Man, for a news flash? This is gonna be way boring…"

Alfred was wrong.

A grave-faced news reporter appeared onscreen with a mike in hand. "The video you see displayed here onscreen is live from Japan…"

"Japan?" chorused everyone in the group in shock at the sight of the waves of liquid debris tumbling over trees and buildings. It seemed to be a wave of destruction, mowing down anything in its path, even the strongest-looking of buildings.

"An earthquake with a magnitude of 8.8 has caused a tsunami along the shores of the countryside as well as massive damage to the properties within it. What you see now is an aerial view of one of the affected areas from a rescue helicopter. Waves of a whopping ten meters in height have swept away most of the residences and other buildings. So far, approximately a hundred deaths have been reported, and the number is steadily rising…"

At that point, most of them were pale in shock.

"…The tsunami is predicted to continue and hit Russia, Taiwan, the Philippines, and…"

"Ivan lives in Russia," managed Arthur, still recovering from the shock. "So…He…His flight must have been canceled because…"

"And Kiku…" added Ludwig forebodingly. "What happened to Kiku…?"

Francis laughed nervously at the notion in an ineffective attempt to lighten the doomed mood. "Y-You're kidding…Kiku wouldn't…"

The screen shifted to a view of a cliff side observatory-turned-refugee center that was absolutely crammed with drenched people, shivering from the water and fear for their lives. The floods caused by the tsunami, seen in the background, made the tall cliff seem like a sickeningly polluted lake. Among the refugees, there was a little girl carrying something soaked and shivering in her arms…

Yao blanched when he realized what it was. He felt like he'd been thrown off that cliff…

Even if they weren't too close anymore, they were still friends.

"Yao…?" Feliciano whimpered, seeming to catch wind of the Chinese man's suspicion.

"H…Hey," he stammered, widened eyes glued to the screen. "I-Isn't that…Pochi…?"

* * *

**A/N:** In case you wonder, when China said "shi ma?," he meant "是吗?" I just didn't type it in that way since I knew some people's computers can't read Chinese...It sort of means "right?," for all you non-Chinese who might be reading. He's not saying "aru" in every second statement because I don't put in speaking tendencies when I write serious fics.

Well...there was my first FF fic. D: I'll do my best! *bow*


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for how late this is! I finished a long time ago, but FFN sent me errors of doom. Thankfully, from reading others' fics, I figured out how to get around the error! Thank you, iTorchic! XD To anyone else who might have been affected, the cheat was to replace "story_edit_property" with "story_edit_content" on the URL! :3 Well, you still won't be able to edit the properties, but at least you can put up new chapters...  
**

**A/N** Chapter two, due to popular demand. :3 Thanks to everyone who read, fave'd, and reviewed. I appreciate your support in the first days of my career here on FFN. *bow* Floodwaters is going to be a short series now, but I won't necessarily update too quickly, since I wrote the first chapter on writer's adrenaline, but this second one was slightly rushed, so I didn't exactly love the way it came out... ._. Plus, this whole chapter was supposed to be only the intro of chapter 2, so this might go on longer than I anticipated...Also, this was written five days after the crisis, so the news tidbits are not as up-to-date, but if I screw something up anyway, please do point it out~

Anyway, prayers to Japan, as it continues to recover, and while I'm at it, might as well send prayers to the Middle East, too. It's got nothing to do with this fic, but they sure need the prayers. ;_;

I don't own Hetalia.

* * *

"With the crisis in Japan continuing, and even worsening, up to four thousand casualties have been confirmed, with still seven thousand more missing. Japanese economy has also taken a huge blow from this catastrophe, losing six hundred twenty billion dollars in just two days. Rescuers from all parts of the world continue their search in the rubble, willing to lend a helping hand in…"

The television in the lavish hotel room (courtesy of Arthur, insistent that he ought to pay for it since it _was_ his idea of a venue) continued its smooth newscast, but troubled thoughts drove the smaller details out of Yao's mind as he listened to it over his breakfast.

_Four thousand dead._ What if Kiku was among those? It had been only two days short of a week, and there had been no word from him yet. What if he'd been crushed under a whole house's worth of debris? What if he'd drowned in the horrible flood that was sent in by the tsunami? Thinking about it made Yao feel worse by the minute.

_Seven thousand missing._ Then again, what if he were still alive under all the planks of wood and collapsed roofs? What if he managed to swim to safety in the unforgiving waters and had found refuge in a faraway place where the rescuers hadn't been to yet? They were hopeful thoughts, but unlikely at best, and Yao couldn't help but find that his mind had registered them under "wishful thinking."

It was extremely worrying, and the pictures of a ravaged Japan flashing mercilessly on the television were no help at all.

Yao stared at his breakfast of congee as if it were alien. That was weird; he was usually a huge cuisine enthusiast, eating all three meals of the day with much vigor, but that moment, it just seemed like food wasn't so appetizing anymore. Come to think of it, he had been eating less and less in the past few days, in consistent proportion with the worsening condition of Japan.

Why was he so worried?

A loud knocking pushed Yao off of his train of thought. Startled, he snapped his head up at the noise, the news providing a constant background. "Who is it?"

"It's Feliciano~"

Feliciano? That was funny. The only person Feliciano was known for visiting in the morning was Ludwig, and usually for petty matters like him not being able to figure out how to flush the toilet in the new hotel or something similar. Yao just hoped Feliciano hadn't decided to turn to _him_ instead, since Feliciano was a common subject of complaint when it came to Ludwig, and it didn't sound very fun.

"Hold on." Abandoning his untouched congee, Yao went to answer the door. Of course, the person he opened it to was the Italian he had expected.

Walking in as if it were Ludwig's room, or in other words, as if it were some everyday thing, Feliciano took a glance at Yao's perfectly presented meal and said, "That's funny. You didn't eat your breakfast."

"Uh…Well, yeah, the morning hasn't really turned out well," Yao said awkwardly, closing the door as well as watching the Italian twirl around the room and poke his nose in all of Yao's stuff.

"But you don't usually leave your breakfast," Feliciano answered casually, failing at an attempt to read one of Yao's Chinese magazines.

Yao didn't answer for a while, simply staring at Feliciano flip the pages of the magazine and gaze in awe at the many beautiful sceneries and tourist spots that were portrayed within. "And what were you doing here again?" he finally asked as nice as he could.

"Oh. Well, you looked kinda sad yesterday…Oh, and the day before that, too, and those days before that, so I thought I'd come and pay you a visit, mm?" Feliciano closed the magazine and tossed it aside. "I don't like seeing people sad…" he whimpered.

Yao was a little dumbfounded. He never was very close to Feliciano in the first place, yet he seemed pretty worried about him. Maybe it really was just the tight binding of friendship that pulled everyone in the group together, even when some of them didn't get along too well personally. "W…Well, it's just that…I'm a little worried about Kiku," he finally admitted, resigning to his prior seat in front of his now-cold congee. The television continued relaying the latest news of the Japan crisis.

"Ehh? Is that all?" Feliciano took the seat across him, head turned to the news. "But look." When the Italian pointed at the television screen, Yao followed.

The caption on the screen no longer read, "Japan in Shambles" as it did a few moments ago. Instead, it said, "Miracles in Japan."

The newscaster's voice was a little lighter and more relieved as she said, "Amidst the disaster in Japan, miracles also sprout. In the Miyagi Prefecture, a four-month-old baby was found underneath all the rubble by a team of rescuers after they followed her cries. She is now in the care of her relieved parents, who had been worried for her welfare.

"Elsewhere, in the Iwate Prefecture, A seventy-year-old woman was found inside her house, suffering from hypothermia, yet still alive. She was sent to the hospital for treatment.

"And finally, floating on the ocean, a sixty-year-old man was found, clinging to his floating roof, lost at sea for two days, living a life of attempting to gain the attention of rescue helicopters and the like, yet miraculously surviving the ordeal.

"There is light at the end of the tunnel, and these stories of survival in the face of a crisis are examples of just that. These amazing miracles have fueled the rescuers to search harder, in case one of the seven thousand missing is found somewhere far off or perhaps still breathing under the debris, hungry, alone, yet amazingly alive."

And while the newscast wandered to other, more trivial subjects, Yao couldn't help but allow a tiny spark of hope light up his heart. If these people were found alive, if miracles do happen, then maybe, just maybe, Kiku could be alive. Hungry, alone, yet amazingly alive.

Yao felt a smile form on his lips.

"See; what'd I tell you?" Feliciano was back to his innocent and loveable self, proud to be right for once, and happy to see Yao happy. "Kiku's definitely alive. I just know it~"

"Mm."

"So you better go eat up, coz we're going sightseeing today!" Feliciano got up, playfully patting the elder's head to make a point. "Come to think of it, I haven't eaten yet…Well, I'm going to make myself some pasta! Don't wanna live off English food; yuck." And with that, Feliciano Vargas twirled merrily out the door, carefree.

That's what made him so uplifting. His happy attitude, that even when one of his friends was deemed _dead_, he still refused to believe it, didn't hole up, didn't grow depressed and just _believed_ that things were better than they seemed. It could be his downfall when things _really_ go wrong, but for that one instance…

For that one instance, his carefree nature was right.

Finding the appetite to eat again, Yao found something to look forward to, and it didn't seem so improbable anymore.

Kiku was alive, and they all knew it.

/

"Mommy?" The little Japanese girl, hair in pigtails and shoes soaked through from all the trekking she'd done on the still-damp ground, walked up to her mother on the observatory floor, who was taking inventory of the limited supplies they had left after hurriedly fleeing from the tsunami. The girl herself was teary-eyed and sullen the way little girls are. "I can't find the doggy. He ran off at night and I can't _find him_."

Her skinny mother looked up from her work thoughtfully. "Well," she began slowly, "maybe he's found his real owner, and maybe he's ran off to keep him company. Wouldn't that be better for him?"

The girl answered with a little sob.

And somewhere far off, Pochi _had_ found his real owner.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Chapter 3's here. Shortest one yet. D: My estimate dictates that chapter 4 will be the last one...Hm. Oh, well; enjoy it despite its shortness!

* * *

Arthur gulped, under pressure from the questioning stares of five pairs of eyes. Could he really say this? He didn't ask for their permission when he did it, so how would they react?

Trying his best to push that all aside, the Englishman said as bluntly as he could, "I booked us a flight to Japan."

He surveyed the resulting reactions: Feliciano's airheaded smile was wiped off his face by a new befuddled expression. Ludwig raised an eyebrow. Francis looked shocked as shocked can possibly be. Alfred bit into his burger a little too hard. Yao looked…relieved?

"Y-Yes…I'm sorry I failed to tell you earlier." Arthur fiddled with his tie, hoping he would get positive feedback after the initial shock. "But I already printed the e-tickets, and the flight leaves tomorrow morn. I thought we should go check on Kiku. I called Ivan over too; he said he managed to book a flight today, and he's going to be waiting for us there. I-If it's too sudden, I could—"

"Dude!" Alfred finished chewing, and a wide, toothy grin now swept across his face. "Funny, I was thinking the same thing! I didn't even think they were still sending planes off there after the quake and all! Let's go, man!" The American stood, his chair falling back, as if he were ready to dash to the airport right that instant.

Francis immediately tugged on his bomber jacket, forcing him back on his seat. "Calm down, monsieur! You mustn't be so…unrefined in your declamations!"

"What, I bet you're psyched too, man!" Alfred didn't even try to contain his excitement. "I mean, dude, I was all worried about Kiku, too! You're saying you weren't?"

"E-Eh?" Francis flinched, but quickly regained his extravagant composure. "Of course I'm excited, and of course I was worried! I simply did not approve of your way of expressing it!" He tried to hide it, but his spirits were brought higher by the news as well.

"Ve~! We're going to find Kiku~!" Feliciano sang, and even Ludwig looked contented. Yao said nothing, but it was evident that he was hiding a smile.

Frankly, Arthur was a little surprised. When someone was booked onto a flight to a ravaged country without permission, you wouldn't exactly expect a positive reaction like that. He paused, looking around at the determined smiles of his friends, and let one out himself. It looked like when it came to them, it was friends first. Not many friends were like that, and he felt blessed.

"It looks like we'll be packing up tonight, then!"

/

The group's high spirits were immediately swatted down once they arrived.

"Da." Ivan frowned, following their gazes. "It was like this when I arrived. Kiku…_was _staying here, da?"

"U…Unfortunately," stammered Ludwig, and he wasn't one to stammer.

They had a hard time getting to the seaside city in the first place. When he booked the flight online, it had taken Arthur a few hours to find one, seeing as to how the country wasn't exactly a profitable one after the tragedy. And once they landed, it took them quite some time to find a route to the resort Kiku said he was staying at before contact was severed. They had asked dozens of locals, took dozens of detours, and encountered dozens of rubble-ridden dead ends. And when they finally got there…

The beach resort was ravaged. Barely any of the beach houses still stood, and those that did were missing the top half…or more. The Japanese who lived nearby were gathering in long lines to receive measly rations from rescuers who looked pretty hungry themselves. The rest of the rescue team was dragging out dead bodies from under the collapsed walls and fallen roofs. _Dead_ bodies. Feliciano looked down nervously, and realized that they stood on a ravaged plank of wood that may have been the large, grand sign to the resort before huge waves tore it down and desperate citizens trampled it.

"Did they…" Francis hesitated. "…Find him?"

"Kiku?" Ivan looked upset, which was something he was not very often. "I asked around. No one heard from him."

"Dude…" Alfred watched the people lining up bow in gratitude one by one and leave with their tiny portions. "Did we really expect someone to 'find him'? Look at this place, man!"

"We shouldn't be losing hope," muttered Yao, but that was a hypocritical statement.

"You said you saw a girl with a dog that looked like Pochi, da?" Russia motioned to what looked like it used to be an observatory before it became a refuge area on a cliff. "I looked into that, too. I found the girl, but she said the doggy ran away last night."

"Where did it go?" queried Arthur, hoping it was a lead.

"She doesn't know."

"Oh. So much for that, man." Alfred took a few steps down the eroded stones leading to the beach, nearly tripping. "What about the beach? D'you look around?"

"I thought, leave the work to the rescuers, da?"

"But what if they're missing something?" Yao was a little hopeful again, telling himself that Kiku was alive, but again, felt like he was lying to himself. "There are so many missing people and so little rescuers!"

Ludwig shrugged. "I suppose we can try. The chance is slim, though…"

"Well, let's go!" Feliciano hopped down the steps, determined to at least attempt a search of their own. "We're going to find him! We will; I know it!"

…Halfway down the steps, the Italian tripped.

Alfred burst into obnoxious laughter immediately after, and the rest followed. Even Ludwig managed to smile. "Aw, man, we get your enthusiasm, alright? Come on, dudes, let's get searching!"

And they dashed down the steps with hollow smiles and fake laughter, helping Feliciano up on the way. They could pretend to be determined; to actually believe that they could find Kiku when the professionals couldn't. A fragile thing to hope on, but there was nothing else. If they let go, one truth would have to be accepted: That Kiku was dead. And no one wanted that.

/

He woke up to the pain: a slow, constant thing. It was everywhere, a cacophony of aches and stings. Cuts, bruises, or something worse…Who knew? There was only pain, and the unrelenting darkness.

For the first few…moments? Hours? Days? He didn't know, but he drifted in and out of consciousness…The ordeal was blurry; his mind was clouded from the hunger. He was awake enough to know that he was under piles and piles of rubble, but he felt too woozy to do anything about it. He could barely move, and he was stuck. He couldn't do anything but wait for rescue.

…And if rescue didn't come…? He didn't want to think about that.

And before slipping back into sleep (if he was ever awake at all), he could have sworn he had heard vehement barking in the distance.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **And it turns out that it _doesn't_ fit in one chapter! Utterly splendid. :P Well, if the cut between chapters 4 and 5 is a bit awkward, I'm sorry, because I couldn't find a better place to cut it. ._.

And one RL friend of mine asked my why the nuclear thing was not involved. If you're wondering the same thing...Don't you think we're making Kiku suffer enough? D: Well. Enjoy; I don't own Hetalia, as always.

* * *

The day had been hard, at its nicest. The group of seven had spent it "searching" around the ravaged area (none of them really _looked_; it just seemed so futile), trying to bring up "friendly" conversations with locals (which were not very happy; some even ended up in tears on the victims' part) and "discussing" about where they would stay (it undoubtedly wouldn't be easy to find a hotel).

Eventually, the sun sank. The ocean should have looked beautiful in the glimmering rays of sundown, but the waves had swallowed up garbage in mounds, and the sunlight just created an even more revolting illusion on the discarded scraps of junk littering the water.

Francis took one last disgusted look at the scene before turning to the others, who now loitered around the refuge area after a fruitless search. "I think we should be heading out by now. I don't want to stay in this…miserable place all night."

"Yeah, I guess so." Yao still looked down, his hopes completely extinguished once again. "But we'll have a pretty difficult time finding somewhere to stay for the night…"

"Well, maybe we should try." Arthur's voice was flat as he stood from the bench he sat on. Wordlessly, the friends stalked quietly out of the observatory, with Feliciano taking one last worried look at the hungry refugees before clumsily catching up with the rest.

In a span of a few moments, they were walking on concrete again, no longer on sodden sand, much to Francis' relief. The city, as ruined as it was, still brought a little comfort, despite the broken windows and seemingly fruitless repairs. A majority of the shops were closed, and among those that were open, only the supermarket seemed to have good business. Perhaps a little _too_ good, with every shelf seemingly devoid of content.

When they finally came across a hotel, it was already dark. It was not a very fancy place—just passable enough. They were lucky they found one that nice, in fact, when many of the inns and hotels had shut down for repairs…some, for good. The rest were being used as refuge areas, and definitely didn't have enough room for seven foreigners to stay over for a night or two.

"Here; I got our keys." Ludwig walked over to the others from the modest reception desk, a set of keys dangling from his fingers. The German distributed them, muttering, "Japan is in a really bad state, isn't it…?"

For a moment, silence was the only reply, before Alfred admitted in an unusually bland manner, "I'm worried. Kiku, do you think he…"

"Ehh? Don't say it!" Feliciano's hand shook as he gripped the room key. Dismay was written all over his face. "It can't happen! There's no way!" He looked incredibly terrified, typical of the cowardly Feliciano, but the others had to admit to themselves that this time, he had a reason to be. No one had to mention that one possibility, because everyone knew what it was.

Ivan frowned deeply, disliking it himself, but they just couldn't hope forever. Someday, they'd have to face the truth, whether it meant Kiku had survived…or not. "But it's possible, da? Like Ludwig said, Japan is in a bad state, and among the thousands of people dead or missing—"

"No!" snapped Feliciano. He took a nervous step back, the rest of his friends either looking down in light of the chances or watching him sadly. "We'll find him tomorrow! We'll find him tomorrow…I swear!"

And with a shaky "humph" of sheer denial, the Italian ran to his room, not caring if he forgot to ask where it was.

/

"Kiku! Kikuuuuuu!"

"Please. Can you make him shut up?" hissed Arthur testily to Ludwig. It hadn't been a very luxurious morning, with Feliciano somehow miraculously managing to find everyone's rooms and drag them off to find Kiku at four in the morning. At the moment, the sleep-deprived group was headed back to the ex-beach resort. "I think he's overreacting."

"I'm _sure _he's overreacting," sighed Ludwig with a hint of resignation, pushing back his blond hair (which he didn't even have enough time to gel in Feliciano's persistence). "Feliciano _never_ wakes up this early." He managed a reluctant pause before he added, "Besides, I don't think Kiku…"

"Don't say it." Apparently, Yao had been listening in on the conversation. He himself looked exhausted, as if he didn't get any sleep at all…like he had spent the night worrying. He rubbed his eyes as he yawned, "You'll get him more upset than he already is."

"But Yao, what do _you_ think?" Arthur looked at the Chinese seriously, Feliciano's calls persisting in the background.

He blinked, suddenly awake. "…What?"

"What do _you_ think?" Arthur repeated. "Do you think Kiku is…um, not here with us anymore?"

Yao stopped walking, and for a moment Arthur and Ludwig were worried they had lost him to something more gripping than their conversation. Finally, he stifled a bitter, humorless laugh and mumbled, "Well, he's certainly not standing beside you, is he? Come on. We have a crazed Italian to go after."

Before either could comment on the odd encounter, Yao walked ahead, wordlessly leaving Arthur and Ludwig to their private talk. They tried to catch his expression, but Yao took care not to reveal it, and they could only watch as he walked, ponytail swishing behind him.

There was silence for a moment, yet another awkward soundless span of time to add to the formidable collection they had created in the past few days. Finally, Arthur said blankly, "I think he's in denial, too."

Ludwig shook his head. "We all are."

Until the sun was up and the group was beginning to worry about breakfast, the seven retraced their steps around the whole strip of sand, no one daring to complain and get Feliciano even more fired up. This time, they really _were_ just tagalongs to Feliciano's frantic search. No one seemed to have the stomach for it anymore, at least not after the previous night. After all, could a simple group of seven friends from a few different countries really spot something that a huge professional search team from all over the world had missed?

The sun was high in the sky and even Feliciano was beginning to get tired when Francis just happened to take a short glance to the side, to a pile of rocky rubble that blocked the strip of sand halfway through, one that left the water the only way to get to the other side. They had walked pretty far down the seaside, several times over, too, but none had considered wading past the roadblock. After all, it seemed like it would lead you waist-deep into the salty waves, and it didn't seem too likely at the moment that something was on the other side. But with that short glance, Francis saw something.

He waved it off at first, but as the others turned back, deciding to call it a day, he saw it again. That unmistakable caramel blur…Was it…

"Hey…it's Pochi…!"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **I'm back, I'm back! Alas, after a ridiculous wait that I apologize for subjecting you to, Floodwaters is ending! :U Sorry if it's a bit awkward…I literally haven't ended a series in five years, so this took me a lot of thinking to write. It's also quite tricky to research about earthquake rescue. Not only that, but suddenly, my Internet went down! I'm posting this from someone else's computer, because FFN won't let me log in using the Internet I'm using temporarily…

And so, after a very long wait, I present Floodwaters chapter five, the final (and longest) chapter!

* * *

"What?" Ivan turned first, and everyone else followed, eyes suddenly wide. "Are you sure you're not imagining things? It _has_ been a hard day, da?"

The flash of fur came again. "I'm sure!" insisted Francis. "Look!"

Gazes were fixed to the edge of the rubble, and this time, everyone saw it pass-As well as _heard_ it. Small, high-pitched barking, too soft to hear if you weren't listening, but unmistakably the voice of the little Japanese pooch they knew.

"Hey!" Pushed by the persistent yaps, Alfred leapt straight into the water, wading around to see better, a few of the others even following. Once he had made it halfway, his curious expression turned into a huge, triumphant grin. "Dude, it _is_! It's Pochi, man!"

Feliciano had already caught up, a look of complete delight on his face and a dumbfounded Ludwig right at his heels. Arthur shed his coat and jumped in as well, too winded by the discovery to care much about how ridiculously dramatic that looked. Even Yao ran straight into the rolling waves, even if he knew perfectly well that he had no idea how to swim.

"I'm going to call the rescuers," announced Ivan, and before anyone could reply, he turned on his heels and ran for the makeshift tents where the rescue teams stayed for the night.

"I…I'm coming with you!" snapped Francis immediately, wanting to help out but preferring to do so _without_ getting his clothes wet. He dashed after the Russian, who was already far ahead with his scarf blowing behind him.

"We'll go see what Pochi is barking about," Ludwig shouted after them over his shoulder, then broke into a speedy swim. Yao was still wading carefully a little far off, but everyone was at their quickest. After all, they had found _Pochi_—and dogs had this thing about being man's best friend.

Alfred, in the lead, arrived at the shore first, soaked through but grinning widely. He scrambled over the wet sand and cooed, "Hey, Pochi, boy! Watcha find there?"

The Akita pup stopped barking at the sound of the familiar voice. He took one quick, beady-eyed look at the ecstatic American and the others trailing behind him, and suddenly began barking as frantically as ever. He was soaked to his skin as well, and he was thinner than Alfred remembered, that's for sure, but his energy levels were off the charts as he yelped enthusiastically, jumping around in circles.

"I've never seen him so excited," stated Arthur as he landed on the shore after Feliciano (who was by then running after Pochi) and Ludwig (who was by then running after Feliciano). "What's he yapping about?"

As if to reply, Pochi froze behind one particular pile of rubbish and debris, fluffy tail wagging intensely as he stared, waiting interestedly for the friends' response.

And every single one of them, Yao crawling at the far end of the ocean included, froze in shock, which grew quickly into a confused blend of terror and fragile hope.

Under the slabs of crumbling rock and broken planks of wood, a bloodied hand stuck out, pale with its fingers curled. Someone was down there, and even Feliciano could guess who it was.

"…Kiku…?"

The friends scrambled towards the bloody limb, and Pochi resumed his fervent barking. Arthur pressed his fingers to the exposed wrist, slightly grimacing at the sensation of the sticky blood.

"Hey, man, how is he?" queried Alfred anxiously, peering over the crouched Englishman's shoulder. Just like the others, he held his breath and just mentally begged that there remained life under the fallen debris.

His prayers were answered.

"He's…It's…There's a pulse!" exclaimed Arthur, unable to hide his surprise and relief. "He's alive!"

"What? It's a miracle," said Ludwig with an eyebrow raised. "But he's not out of the woods yet. It's been awhile since the flood…he's bound to have been down there for…" The German trailed off, noticing the others' smiles fading back into worried expressions at the exposure of the truth. He himself scowled. He muttered instead, "We have to get him out."

"How?" Yao frowned, only just emerging from the water and coughing out whatever had gotten into his mouth on the inconvenient wade. "The rescuers; they'll have to—"

As if in reply, a rumbling filled the air and in one mighty mechanical sweep, the rubble that blocked the long strip of shore cleared. In its place stood a large bulldozer, a team of rescuers, Ivan, and Francis.

"All clear," shouted the stocky man driving the vehicle, and his colleagues proceeded to the scene.

"Ivan! Francis!" Feliciano called, waving a hand in the air.

"We got the rescuers," stated Ivan obviously. He seemed slightly out of breath, but his violet eyes shone in the dawn light. "Did you find…?"

Ludwig motioned to the hand as Arthur and the others confronted the small uniformed rescue team. "Before you ask, there's a pulse, but I'm not sure how long it's going to last."

Francis dusted off the sand and soil that had gotten onto his designer clothes, lips puckered. "Kiku better be alive," he said sourly, but even he couldn't hide the anxiety from his tone.

He could be alive. Or, he could be dead. There were only two options, really, and whatever came of it, they had no control over. There was only hope-quiet, fragile hope, as the friends stood with the waves lapping at their ankles, watching the rescuers scurry around at orders from their superior, carrying shovels and digging in various places.

Francis was never particularly close to Kiku, but watching them dig him up right there, with no indication of whether he would see the day or not, was utterly heartbreaking. He had seen him in all his stoic decisiveness, and to see him so helpless…

Ivan had talked with him a couple of times before. He was always so deep, so…hard to understand. Yet, in crises, everyone was the same. Everyone, you could sympathize with, especially when you see him being uncovered from the ruins as if he were merely some valuable artifact. A life was more valuable than that…

Alfred and Kiku liked a lot of things in common. They'd visit each others' houses to play videogames a lot. Alfred usually lost when it came to Kiku (it seemed as if he'd mastered every single game in the world), but losing to someone like him didn't feel so bad. And when it all boiled down, under the long gaming meet-ups and bowls of popcorn, Kiku would help him out when he needed it, even if Alfred could be an annoying brat sometimes, and he knew it. If those hours-long and enjoyable multiplayer sessions stopped…

Arthur had at first only opened up to Kiku. Crabby, irritable, and everything in between, he hadn't really liked joining the strange group of friends at first; it had just seemed unavoidable. But then, he'd grown a slight bit lonely, and so he took up a conversation with Kiku, and Kiku talked back, and he helped improve his English while he helped him cook a little better. A little. But still, he'd seemed so friendly, so polite. To lose him would mean…

Ludwig had been the one to invite Kiku into their little group of friends. At that time, it had been for perks. Surely befriending a capable, smart young man such as Kiku would benefit someday? But then, Ludwig sort of warmed up to the group, especially Kiku, to his surprise, and before he knew it, he believed in friendship, too. He was no longer just a tool; he was a friend, and for him to go…

Feliciano really liked Kiku. It was amusing when he'd look around, flustered, if he did something wrong, and it always felt good to help him out with something he didn't understand and see his smiling face afterwards. When their meeting had been in Italy, his home country, he toured Kiku all around on this long food trip, and he enjoyed so much that Ludwig couldn't recognize him when they came back. And most of all, he was smart, and he knew so much, and he'd tell Feliciano all sorts of things, and somehow, he'd feel even just a little bit brainier. If all those blank expressions, confused scowls and enjoyable smiles were surrendered for an eternal lifeless stare…

And Yao, Yao felt sorry. It was an accident all those years ago, a fiasco and completely unintentional. But he had pulled away, and he severed that mentality that they were brothers. The others had tried to talk with him, but he closed up, and right at that moment, as fallen beams were pulled away and crumbling foundations were dug out, he felt so guilty. Like it was his fault, somehow. He could have approached him or something; Kiku never spoke first, after all. And now, if he lost him, his brother, if he lost the opportunity to see him laugh again…

There was silence as the seven watched on.

Minutes seemed like hours that felt like days. And they endured it with breaths held as a full arm was uncovered, with Kiku's torn silk sleeve stained with blood. Pochi had stopped barking, reduced to a small, whimpering light heap of fur. Time passed by like dripping quicksand, and the world was silent, as if waiting with them in their torturous vigil.

And finally, finally, they got him. Covered in bruises and cuts, his black hair sticking around his face with dark blood. And it was horrible to look at, someone you loved, your friend, so hurt and so helpless when just some time ago you were laughing with him over the phone.

Francis stared with his mouth open in terror, and Ivan was mute. Arthur looked away and Alfred had both hands over his mouth. Feliciano choked, gripping at Ludwig's stiffened arm tighter and Yao was already crying.

And all dark sorrow was drowned out by the cries of ambulance sirens.

/

**Epilogue**

"_Kiku? Kiku, wake up._

"_I brought you some dumplings today. I made them myself."_

"_And pasta!"_

"_Woof!"_

"_Oh, Feliciano, Pochi!"_

"_Quiet! At this rate, you're actually going to wake him up, stupid git!"_

"_Chillax, bro! Isn't that a good thing?"_

"_Actually, he's not supposed to wake up for another few months, da? If he woke up something would be wrong."_

"_What are we even doing? He can't hear us."_

"_He might. I read something about comatose people actually being conscious, and sometimes they can remember things they heard while they were asleep."_

"_Woof! Woof!"_

"_Hey, man, then maybe we can all laugh about it over at my place when this is all over!"_

"_Sure thing. I'll bring some games."_

"_What are you talking about, Arthur? You don't game…"_

"_Kiku might want to play something."_

"_Yeah, that would be nice."_

_And they laughed, and quietly, as the machines beeped a steady background, he laughed with them._

* * *

**A/N-** China is almost unrecognizable without his annoying aru's…XD Anyway, that's how it ends. Like, several months after I started it, and that's only a few chapters. Bah, I suck. XD

While I was proofreading this, Time of Dying by Three Days Grace was playing in the background, and when it started to get sad, it moved on to Alphonse Elric's theme, Ano Yume No Mukou E. And it was amazing. X3 I like how it came out, honestly, but your opinion is your opinion, so review anyway!

Well, whether you thought that was good or not, thanks for reading and reviewing the whole thing despite my knack for procrastination! I'll write something up when I think of something again, maybe Fullmetal Alchemist, and I'll try to go a teensy bit quicker. Goodbye for now and good luck in your own writing escapades!

~~Nuttyjigs~~


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